I dreamed Saturday night that I took the MCAT with some of my friends, and as the test administrator was giving us instructions, I thought, I'm going to cry about this later. Instead, I began crying right there, walked out of the room, and returned to find the most bizarre test of all time. I had to pick which tracks were made in dirt by a miniature tractor (?), among other things. As if it couldn't get any weirder, the test began slowly integrating more and more Spanish until it was completely the language; somehow, I could figure out words or phrases here or there, and I thought, it's too bad they don't have a German MCAT. I didn't finish the test in time. It was stressful.
I've been drawing and painting. I actually like it--especially when I let go of my perfectionist expectations.
Monday is still the hardest day of the week for me.
Borders speaks my language, if only because of all the books.
I am intimidated/annoyed that everyone's into photography now. I need to get over it.
I'm tired now. I'm going to sleep.